Home Sweet Home (or, how I learned to stop shivering and love my jumper)

Our humble hut is actually pretty posh. But I best not start there.

One of my favorite TV shows is Top Gear (UK). Those guys are brilliant and hilarious and I love the show, the cars, and the personalities. Whenever a new car is reviewed, however, the approach they take is fairly predictable: they talk about how great the car is and, just when the audience is trying to figure out how they can come up with $200K to go and buy one, they absolutely shred the poor vehicle by pointing out all its fatal flaws. (And there are always a few that make you glad the cheque you just wrote to Bugati will bounce.) Because I want you to know how much we truly appreciate and are thankful for our little home, I'm going to flip the formula around and start with its flaws (bear with me).

The main issue with our little 3-bedroom Bungalow is that it is a traditional New Zealand / Auckland home. Gasp... No!... You say. Who would have expected that, in moving to New Zealand, we might get a New Zealand home?  Well, I did, for one (and you probably did, too). But I didn't know what that was and now I do: simply described by a couple of characters: R5 (at best). Okay, I'm probably still not really grabbing you, so let me say this instead: I have never before lived in a home that had a thermal retention characteristic roughly comparable to that of a tent. I'm serious! When the temperature outside drops by a degree, the home quickly follows suit. So, my guess is that it's insulation rating in Canadian terms would be somewhere around R5. (In perspective, our home on Corkery road has its attic rated at R50.) But this is no surprise over here and people generally have lived without insulation and without central heating their whole lives. Okay, so that's because their weather is so toasty, right? Well, it still gets pretty cool overnight and the first night we were here, Sheri was so cold she eventually pulled the blankets right over her head. Apparently, cold homes are the norm and the general Kiwi wisdom is: put another jumper on (for the linguistically unaware: jumper = sweater). (I think Sheri and I would agree that our most necessary purchase over here so far has been a pair of slippers for each of us. (Where are my mukluks when I need them?))

And here I sit in my cozy jumper (if you know me well, you're familiar with it... there's an orange stripe) typing away and feeling compelled to say that it strikes me as very ironic. Canada is far colder (and I'm proud of my frostbit-several-times-raised-North-of-Winnipeg roots) but we generally keep our homes far more comfortable than most Kiwis seem to... and I suddenly feel like a wimp for wanting a home that, at least, stays above 16 through the night. (I'll sidetrack here to say that I have lived in Canadian homes where this wasn't the case (by a long shot), but I was a kid and I could stay cozy in bed while Dad got the fire going in the morning. Since it wasn't my role to face the cold and since those years are now long gone, I think I have to admit that I'm softer than my Dad; there's no doubt that he knew more cold & hardship than I.) We've found an approach that uses heaters in the house to keep us cozy, but we've been warned that the electricity bills will be staggering if we're not careful, so I think we'll need to cut back a bit.

One comforting truth is that, for all their toughness when it comes to interior temperatures, Aucklanders view exterior temperatures with a lot more concern. I heard a weather report the other day that went something like this: "Summer is gone and today's high is only going to be 18 degrees. That means you should be layering on the cardie's and wearing a scarf. And my doctor says that the flu spreads to people who let themselves get cold, so make sure you're wearing socks, too." I'll skip over the weathercaster's dubious medical advice but will say that that day was absolutely, perfectly gorgeous. It was good to have long sleeves for the shade, but it was toasty in the sun and I can't imagine coming close to putting on a scarf. Maybe my skin's not so thin after all and I can retain a bit of Canadian pride.

In any case, there's definitely dramatic temperature swings to contend with indoors. And that's exacerbated by the fact that we've been instructed to keep the windows open as much as possible (some of them are supposed to be open all the time). My thought process (and imaginary respondent): Surely you're joking?! Never mind that these are old-school, woodframe, single-pane windows we're talking about. You want me to give up the meager warmth retention they offer by leaving them open? [Yep.] Why, in heaven's name?! [Because of the humidity.] ... Humidity is the constant enemy over here and we've got several pages of instruction on it. Mould, mould, and more mould is the threat. The curtains will be covered in mildew, the ceiling will start to grow, the windows will rot. The moist air of human life and warmth must be allowed to escape. As proof, the freezer door on our fridge is covered in rust. The light fixtures in the bathroom are also rusty. This is a damp place and any added dampness is difficult to remove. There is enough warning about it to already make us paranoid and we're struggling to find the right balance of warmth, cleaning, and ventilation to keep the spores at bay.

But that's really all there is to complain about and it's not very much when you consider that these things are perfectly normal (building codes are starting to change and insulation is becoming a requirement, but the majority of homes are still like ours). Our home is bright and clean. There's a large wrap-around deck at the front. Another large deck at the back, flower gardens all around, a nice strawberry patch and a bunch of fruit trees. We've got three decent-sized bedrooms, a nice big 4-piece bathroom, and a little 2-person sauna to warm us up on these chilly evenings. The kitchen is small but open and Sheri is already working wonders in it ; we are very well fed. We have several parks to choose from in easy walking distance. There's the strip mall mentioned previously with a few different food options, there's a famous Mexican restaurant (apparently considered either the best or near-best in Auckland), and there's a used book store, all just around the corner. We really are blessed and it's the perfect place for us.

Having our own fruit trees is really wonderful. I think everyone knows that Sheri has a bit of a refined taste when it comes to apples and our apple tree meets the grade. The apples are big, clean, tart, crispy, and delicious. The kids have been picking and eating them eagerly. We also have fijoas in abundance (a bit of an acquired taste, apparently), a lemon tree with giant unripe lemons on it at the moment, and, would you believe, a Macadamia tree. Now, I have to say that I love Macadamias, but I had never before cracked one out of a nut and I have certainly never had one fresh off the tree. A fresh Macadamia is truly delicious!

This home will require from us some adjustment, but it's pretty fabulous and we're very thankful for it. If you come to visit, we're sure you'll like it, too.